


Let the Flames Begin

by Curiousscarletteyes



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Here there be dragons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:15:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22533838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curiousscarletteyes/pseuds/Curiousscarletteyes
Summary: Shion is a prince who's been locked within the confines of the palace for reasons unknown to him. One evening, his mother helps him escape the clutches of his strict father and in his travels, he runs into Nezumi. Nezumi is intent on knocking the corrupt King from his throne and giving the land back to the people. When Nezumi discovers his identity, things get complicated and suddenly Shion finds himself at the center of a plot he never intended to be involved in.
Relationships: Nezumi & Shion (No. 6), Nezumi/Shion (No. 6)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45
Collections: Myths and Legends of No. 6





	Let the Flames Begin

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece I wrote for the 2019 No. 6 Zine: _Myths and Legends of No. 6_!  
> If you'd like to get a copy of the zine, you can still purchase it at: https://www.etsy.com/shop/No6Zine.  
> It is beautiful and so much hard work and love were poured into it! If you're a fan of No.6, I highly recommend getting it! 
> 
> There's an awesome illustration that goes with my fic! Here's the link to it: https://flat-san.tumblr.com/post/613052884768161792/i-forgot-to-upload-these-this-is-the-first
> 
> This fic was written in a different style than my usual writing! I wanted to try something new for the Zine!

The ivory tips of Shion’s hair singed as Nezumi dragged him from the dragon’s blaze. He could scarcely manage a breath, lungs ignited by the heat lingering in the air surrounding them. He was hauled forward as the colossal creature pursued them and crashed through the pines, its steps thunderous against the earth. An apology attempted to slip past the prince’s lips for awakening the beast, for becoming the untimely catalyst of their unfortunate situation, yet maintaining balance overtook his ability to convey any regrets; if he fumbled in their escape, there was only one way this would end.

Nezumi hadn’t stumbled. Not once. Not ever in the time Shion had known him.

These woods seemed to grant his companion’s swift feet the most purchase; he glided gracefully across the forest floor. While branches tugged and grasped at Shion’s ankles, Nezumi’s steadiness never faltered. He seemed to know their whereabouts as though they were stained within the very fibers of his mind, as a beautiful and indelible map. From where had he acquired this knowledge? Nezumi could traverse the wood with such ease, as if he had done so endlessly before. Perhaps he had. For all that Shion knew of Nezumi, there seemed to be far more he didn’t.

He’d very nearly given voice to his thoughts when the ground disappeared underneath him. A steep slope sent him tumbling downward and Nezumi’s supportive hand abruptly withdrew from his own. Shion lurched forward and closed his eyes against the kaleidoscope of earth and sky. He was certain his plummet would persist for an eternity, underbrush, roots, and stones tearing away at his skin. His breath abandoned him upon his abrupt standstill.

Shion released a soft groan, body aching in protest. The dragon remained above them at the peak of the incline. Its wings spread in vexation and, for a moment, he was convinced the creature would ambush them from above. Instead, it gurgled an enraged growl and returned to its cave. Shion had learned a valuable lesson: never again would he wander off unaccompanied into a dark cavern.

Not too long ago, he’d believed dragons were fictional, mythical. Now he had discovered they truly were tangible and thoroughly malicious. Shion had learned far more with Nezumi in the month they had spent together than he had in sixteen years confined behind palace walls.

The boy who occupied his thoughts soon appeared above him, his alluring grey eyes seeming to harbor their own illumination.

“There will be time for rest when you’re _dead,_ your majesty.”

Shion swallowed. Nezumi was unaware of his exact lineage despite his appropriate choice of nicknames. It was to be concealed and shared with absolutely nobody, otherwise, the prince would find himself within his prison once more. At the palace, he’d been well-fed, clothed finely, and strictly tended to. His father had ensured he would want for nothing. Yet regardless of all the luxuries offered to him then, Shion had ached for freedom. It’d been duly attained, and he was unwilling to forsake it.

“There is only one person who owns that title within the kingdom, Nezumi. And that is—”

“The king?”

Nezumi retreated when Shion sat, distaste evident in his voice.

“Yes. It is wrong to call someone that, other than the king. I…” Shion paused, the soil arid and rough beneath his fingers. It didn’t contain the warmth and pliability he’d become familiar with in his time away from the palace. When he gazed down, it lay darkened, black as the deepest nights, as though it’d been recently charred. His scarlet eyes drifted past Nezumi to the landscape before them. A sparse, dry field, dead trunks of ancient trees stubbornly clinging to the earth. Crumbled ash filled the air from what appeared to be ruins. A village perhaps?

A community. One which had once thrived within these woods. It rested devoid of sound; no birdsongs, no humming insects. Just complete silence. He’d never seen one, yet Shion had read enough to recognize that this resembled a graveyard.

“Nezumi, where are we?”

Something flashed across the traveler’s face. Shion couldn’t place the emotion.

“Somewhere we shouldn’t be. Let’s go.”

“Everything is dead.”

“As we soon will be if we don’t get out of here.” He extended a helping hand to Shion, yet the prince’s attention remained captured by the devastated land.

“Why hasn’t it grown back? Nature is resilient, isn’t it?”

Nezumi’s hand dropped to his side, his offer of assistance rescinded. “Magic, Shion. A curse. All things you seem to lack knowledge of.” He scoffed. “The king you seem so fond of nearly burned the entire forest down. Some of it’s recovering, but this area refuses to. Maybe it’s because blood was shed on the soil.”

Shion recoiled.

“He... he did what? _Blood_?”

“Haven’t you heard about the great tragedy that happened here? People were slaughtered. Killed. Burned. All for the sake of the kingdom. The land can’t be used. So now it just sits.”

This was the handiwork of his father? For land? Had he executed innocent people in hopes of _expansion_? What had been his purpose?

Realization came slowly.

“Nezumi, the dragon. You knew it wouldn’t come here.”

“Nothing comes here, Shion.”

“But how did you know that? Have you been here before? Do you visit the area often? You led a clear path through the trees as if you’ve lived here for quite a while. How long have—”

“ _Everyone_ knows, Shion,” Nezumi interrupted, weary of his inquiries. “You’re the only airhead who doesn’t seem to. It’s getting dark. Let’s go. And try not to wake any more dragons along the way.”

Shion stood, yet his mind buzzed with a myriad of uncertainties. Nezumi appeared averse to answering him. Perhaps at dinner and free of the shadow of their earlier peril, his companion would be more likely to reveal the knowledge he veiled from prying eyes.

**\---**

Shion regarded the starved flames devouring the kindling he and Nezumi gathered, thoughts drifting to the charred clearing. The pair had assembled camp, savored a meal together and currently, silently, were enjoying one another’s company. The traveler appeared more agreeably tempered, a favorable sign for Shion. He hoped that he might receive the information he’d been yearning for.

“Nezumi.”

“Hm?” he hummed in response.

“You know more than what you’ve said.”

“About what?”

“The forest.”

He scowled then. “What makes you think that?”

“There is a certain way that you move through it—”

Nezumi chuckled. “And there is a certain way you have with words, Shion. They seem to evade you entirely.”

“Nezumi, I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Shion huffed. This conversation wouldn’t yield results. A different approach appeared necessary.

“What I mean is, it seems as if you’re connected to the forest. As if you’ve lived here your whole life. Does that make sense?”

Nezumi grew quiet, jaw set and silver gaze locked on the fire.

“When you spoke of those people,” Shion pressed gently, “you weren’t detached and cold. The tragedy meant something to you. I’ve seen the scars on your back when you’ve undressed.”

“You watch me change?”

“They aren’t scars from a weapon or even a fall. They look like burns.” The prince lingered in  
silence for a moment and granted his friend time. “Were you a victim of that tragedy, Nezumi?”

A weighty stillness settled in the distance between them, encompassing the unspoken words and thoughts Nezumi withheld.

Shion hesitated a minute.

Then another.

He was approaching surrender when Nezumi sighed with a confession nearly inaudible.

“I was.”

The prince didn’t dare interrupt. The traveler seldom divulged any intimate details about himself and Shion held no intention to sabotage this incredibly rare chance.

“It happened twelve years ago. They called it the Mao Massacre.”

“The Mao. Were those your people?”

“Yes.”

“What were they like?”

Nezumi inhaled deeply. “We existed far before the Kingdom of the Rose was created. We believed we would exist long after it had crumbled as well. If it wasn’t for the king—” He trailed off, lost in thought. His fingers curled themselves into fists. “We lived _with_ the forest. Not _in_ it. We were in harmony with all things: the elements, the animals, the land. That was our way of life. Everything was to be respected and protected. We only obeyed the laws of the forest. As far as we were concerned, the king was not our ruler.”

“Nezumi, the king holds dominion over everything, including the forest.”

Shion received a corrosive glower in answer.

“He did _not_ rule us. He came to us demanding our land and we refused. He didn’t get his desired response. In return—”

“The king decided that if you weren’t going to comply, he would destroy everything.”

Nezumi smiled bitterly. “So you understand.”

“Your family? Were they—”

“They didn’t survive. Do you know how quickly fire catches in a forest, your majesty?”

Shion’s stomach churned. The horror and agony the Mao people had experienced could only be imagined. Homes burnt down before them, women and children murdered. The sum of their treasures needlessly decimated. They hadn’t been offered mercy, compassion, or empathy. A race, an entire culture devastated into ruins for unusable land.

“I’m sorry. How did you survive?”

“An old woman saved me. Being sorry isn’t going to change things. We just have to live. We were outcasts under the kingdom’s watchful eye. Dangerous. The king didn’t like that.” It was quiet for a few moments, Nezumi’s stormy gaze settling on him. “What about you? You’ve been hiding things about yourself as well.”

Shion inhaled sharply. “What?”

“You aren’t exactly subtle, _your highness_. Your pattern of speech gives you away. You didn’t even attempt to change your name. Many children are named after the beloved prince, but you’re the only one that matches his exact age. You falter and stumble through the forest like a fawn. All you’ve known are smooth marble floors. Each and every obstacle or chance for harm was removed from your path. You lived a comfortable life. One free of danger.”

“Nezumi,” Shion hesitated, his identity compromised. Lying wouldn’t achieve anything of significance. “You’re right. It isn’t fair to ask questions like this of you and then give you nothing in return. I am the prince. When I was a child, I grew unwell. When I woke from my illness, I wasn’t permitted to travel outside any longer. My father kept me locked within the palace and any attempts to leave would result in punishment. I had everything I could ever want, except for my freedom. My mother helped me escape. Then… I found you.”

“Your life was supposed to be perfect, Shion. You were to inherit the throne, marry and have children to rule after you. But your father was ruthless. In return, his only son was _cursed_.” His companion’s gaze never wavered. Shion felt transparent, as if his life had been depicted on stained glass.

“Cursed?” Shion barely uttered the word, his thoughts a hurricane in his head.

“Saying you fell ill was the perfect way for your father to hide what happened, a suitable explanation for you as a child. Your appearance speaks of nothing but grievances. All the tales about those who have your appearance end in destruction.” Nezumi’s hand inched towards him then, his fingers drifting through his hair, trailing down to brush the scar on his cheek. “White hair. Scarlet eyes. A long, winding scar. If people knew you were the king’s son, there would be chaos. The prophecy—”

“Prophecy?”

“Have you never heard it? You’re in it.”

“Me?”

Nezumi nodded. “It’s been passed down through generations. Even my people knew of it.”

At that exact moment, it was as though magic blessed him: Nezumi opened his mouth and sang. It was a prophecy old as time itself.

> _It shall be on the evening when the moon turns bright, a surrender shall bring the rise of evil new plight._  
>  _\-------------------_  
>  _A goddess enraged will lay a curse, an act that will cause good fortune reversed._  
>  _\-------------------_  
>  _It shall be then when the one with starlit hair will prove to be a destructive heir._  
>  _\-------------------_  
>  _Hope will arise, the king overturned, all will be restored that once was burned._

Try as he might, the prince struggled to comprehend the undecipherable ballad. “I don’t understand.”

“‘ _The one with starlight hair will prove to be a destructive heir._ ’ That’s you, Shion.”

“Me? Nezumi, it can’t be.”

“Who else could it be? Do you know anyone else walking around with hair that glimmers like the stars above? The goddess is Elyurias. The forest was her home. When your father burned it down, She was enraged and placed a curse on you in return. The massacre happened on a night with a full moon. You’re the king’s heir, and it’s you who will lead to the destruction of the kingdom. It all fits.”

It was _overwhelming_. Curses. Magic. Prophecies. They were collectively fantastical elements described in novels and storybooks, not facets of his own world. Yet Shion had considered dragons in a similar regard until his life had nearly been stolen by one of them hours earlier.

If Nezumi spoke the truth, it indicated Shion was destined to overthrow the monarch. He was fated to dismantle his own kingdom. This fate was not what he had intended upon escaping, the prince merely yearned for his freedom…

“I…don’t want to destroy the kingdom.”

“What?”

“It’s my home. It may not be yours, but there are many people who live within the borders. If we destroy the kingdom, they will lose their livelihoods.”

Nezumi scoffed. “If I recall correctly, you said that you were held prisoner. That palace is _not your home._ With the king gone, you would be free. You would never have to return to those walls ever again, or fear that the soldiers will locate you and drag you back kicking and screaming.” He sighed, placing a hand against his forehead, exasperated. “Fine. If you need more reasons to fulfill your destiny, I will gladly give them to you. Perhaps then you will fully understand the situation.”

“Nezumi—"

The traveler stood, finished with their conversation. “Get ready for bed, we’re leaving early tomorrow morning.”

_\---_

Shion stood in a field overlooking the kingdom with gales of wind caressing the grass and trees, lifting his light hair as the sun began descending, setting the sky ablaze with warm colors. Nezumi would arrive to retrieve him soon. They had been traveling together for two months now. Over the past four weeks, the traveler had shown him the shortcomings of his homeland. Citizens could not afford to feed themselves. Streets were overrun with negligent soldiers, lawless. Shion had witnessed subjects terrorizing one another, committing thievery and deception. He’d ascertained their judgements concerning the king, none of which were positive. They wished for his head upon a plate.

How could his father abandon their people? Did he frolic through life unaware of the suffering of those upon the outskirts? For what reason did he refuse to assist despite owning riches enough to aid this kingdom and beyond, with remaining wealth to continue living lavishly? Was he truly slighting the lives of his citizenry?

Shion could hear Nezumi chastising him for his naivete.

_You already know the answers to your questions, Shion._

Whether by his riches, power, or a force unseen, the king donned corruption like a gilded crown. He was unfit to govern the kingdom.

Yet, was Shion truly prepared to become an instrument in the dethroning of a sovereign? Could he oppose fate? Was Shion contributing to the horrors of his father’s handiwork by refusing to act? Nezumi had clarified what would befall the two of them should they become adversaries.

_After you learn the truth, it’s possible you’ll still choose to protect the king. If that’s your decision, you will be my enemy._

“If you continue to stand there like a statue, the faeries will come get you.”

Shion frowned, turning to his companion. “Nezumi, faeries don’t—”

The dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow, insisting he conclude his thought.

“I’m sure they have other, more important things to attend to than stealing a prince.”

“You’d be surprised.” Nezumi grinned, then closed his eyes for a moment, turning into the wind. “It’s the beginning of a beautiful evening. I can’t blame you for being in awe. Nature creates such breathtaking things, only to have people come and tear them down.” His gaze moved to the kingdom below them, a scowl drifting across his features. “The fact that it’s named after a rose is a disgrace.”

“Are you really going to overthrow my father?”

“I am.”

“What will you do after?”

He pondered briefly. “Return to the forest.”

 _What about me?_ Shion longed to probe, yet he couldn’t gather the courage to do so. Nezumi would continue to live. With or without him.

Those stunning grey eyes found and locked onto his own.

“Have you made your choice?”

Shion drew a measured breath.

“Yes, Nezumi. I have.”

“And? Please let me know the decision you’ve come to, your highness.”

To agree to assist Nezumi would unfold the exposition of their tale together. To disagree, however, would terminate them here and now. Shion stole a single, final glance at the kingdom resting below. How might life be lived absent a king? A land ruled entirely by the people…

“Nezumi, I’ll help you fulfill the prophecy.”

**Author's Note:**

> While my piece was not necessarily based on a certain myth, I was inspired by Nezumi’s tendency to call Shion “Your Majesty.” I’ve had royal AUs bouncing around in my head for a very long time and it was nice to finally be able to write one! It’s a small part of a much larger idea that I may plan to explore further if I have the time. For now, I hope that this was enough! Shion being both a prince and a child of prophecy was a fun task!


End file.
